MASQUERADE OF MURDER AN EXCERPT It had been a few days since the funeral of Lorraine—the long-standing and dedicated desk sergeant. She’d...

'Only good girls keep diaries. Bad girls don’t have time.' - Tallulah Bankhead Chapter One Hot to Trot Leona Patrone was hot and bothered - again. Tonight she was anticipating a Skype session with one of the younger gentlemen she’d met on social media. She was getting better with each session. She’d had lots of practice since the divorce when Jack moved out, leaving her all alone in her spacious upscale condo. Leona had too much time on her hands and a huge sexual appetite th

" When I dream about people I often see them in real life if not the next day then sometime shortly after my dream. They were usually...

The Call of Lanterman’s Mill by Lorraine Carey When Adele Landers called her friends Kristen and Maribel about their study group...

1820 North Devon, England Betsey, a sadly neglected child, is shouldering responsibilities far beyond her years. As she does her best to...

CHAPTER 17 I was sickened, disgusted with myself. Once again, I took the cowardly way out. I rolled over in bed, for the umpteenth time. I’d been tossing and turning, running scenarios through my head; a short story being dramatised in so many different ways, so many different places, some of the best Hollywood actors playing the role of André. The ending was always the same though; he was used, cast aside, hurt. No matter how, where, and why it was happening, Helen Rushfort

I'LL BE GHOSTING YOU Excerpt from Chapter Eight Warren remained silent as he followed behind Floyd. They walked across the main room where there were people and, presumably, angels walking about, talking or likewise remaining silent. Soon they came to a closed door, and Floyd placed his thumb on a scanner next to it. The door opened and they walked into another room that contained a line of shelves on either side. They reached the end, where a giant wall of gold met their eye

INTERFERENCE She introduced herself as Gillian before taking her seat at the table. We sit in silence as I take in every detail of the young woman sitting before me. I feel a sickness in the pit of my stomach that I have never previously experienced whilst working with a client. I’m visited by an overwhelming need to cry…in pain…despair…and hopelessness. This lady is a deeply troubled soul; desperate, tormented, distressed, and anxious. A new Range Rover was parked in my driv

REPERCUSSIONS By Jules Oliver Wilkinson The sound of a child sobbing disturbs the air, summoning his mother immediately to his side, to...

Author Elizabeth Green Elizabeth Green is the author of "The Adventures of Detective Dopeyworth", "Detective Dopeyworth and the Mince...